


Cowardice

by ElsaFH (Elsa0806)



Series: AtsuHina Week 2020 [5]
Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Alternate Universe - Childhood Friends, Angst and Feels, Angst with a Happy Ending, AtsuHina Week, AtsuHina Week 2020, Drinking, Friends to Lovers, Hinata Shouyou-centric, Love Confessions, M/M, Pining, Pining Hinata Shouyou, oihina brazil fling
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-11
Updated: 2020-06-11
Packaged: 2021-03-04 06:08:16
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,663
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24658864
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elsa0806/pseuds/ElsaFH
Summary: AtsuHina Week, Day 5: Childhood Friends AUShouyou’s been in love with his best friend, Atsumu, for as long as he can remember.
Relationships: Hinata Shouyou & Kozume Kenma, Hinata Shouyou & Miya Osamu, Hinata Shouyou/Miya Atsumu, Past Hinata Shouyou/Oikawa Tooru - Relationship
Series: AtsuHina Week 2020 [5]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1777000
Comments: 37
Kudos: 323





	Cowardice

**Author's Note:**

> HOLY MOLLY IT'S SO LATE SKJDFHSDJK 
> 
> I'm so sorry about the hour. I was a little busy and then Moumo and the rest of artists dropped that absolutely stunning Royalty!AU collab and I was not able to English for a while. Hell I couldn't even speak my mother tongue sjdfhs. 
> 
> ANYGAY I'm here with my fifth submission for this year's week! This was the second one-shot I wrote for this even and maybe you can notice it because the style is a bit different from the others. I was still getting used to English (?)
> 
> THANK YOU SO MUCH FOR ALL YOUR COMMENTS!!!!! I'M SORRY I HAVEN'T ANSWERED!!!! I've been too busy today writing the last day and I had a Depressive Episode like, half an hour ago so yeah KJSHDFSJD 
> 
> I'll try to answer them as soon as I post this to Twitter. I'm sorryyyyy.
> 
> I hope you enjoy today's entry! I'll let you guys to read and I'll see you at the end notes! 

Shouyou was six years old when Atsumu and Osamu moved in to the house next to his. Their first meeting kind of sucked, because they were taller than him and they looked scary, standing at each side of their grandmother. He found out, however, that they weren’t as scary as they wanted to make it seem: the only thing scary about them was how tall they were compared to him, and how dramatic they were.

Their friendship didn’t blossom easily; the twins seemed to live in their own little world, a world where no one could set foot if they didn’t allow them to. And it was _hard_ for them to do so. It was comfortable and private, and Shouyou was a total stranger for them: the small, orange-haired neighbour, with too much energy for his own good. A scaredy-cat that ran for the hills whenever someone taller and beefier than him showed up.

They became friends because of the Miya family’s cat.

It was a tiny ball of black fur, demanding and ill-mannered. The animal hissed at whoever tried to pet him, the hairs on his spine standing on end the moment someone even dared to go a step closer. Constantly escaping from both of the twins and hiding from the boys’ grandmother, the feline had found a safe haven in Shouyou’s backyard.

The story about how Shouyou was found by the twins with the cat sleeping curled up on his lap was one of the Miya’s favourites. They told it whenever they had the chance and they always made Shouyou look like some kind of angel that had descended from heaven itself to tame that little beast of theirs. They used it as the beginning point for the tale of their friendship: their grandmother had thanked Shouyou through an invitation for tea, for both him and his mom. When Hinata had found the volley ball they had tucked behind some unpacked boxes and had asked about it, they found common ground; Shouyou fell in love with volleyball thanks to the twins and they platonically fell in love with their small, orange-haired neighbour with too much energy for his own good. They hadn’t let go of him since that day.

Shouyou just laughed it off. The most surprising thing was he being able to tame two bigger, scarier beasts: the ones he got to call his best friends and teammates. The fact that they’d warmed up to him so quickly after finding that common denominator had nothing to do with Shouyou being able to “tame the scariest beasts”, as they liked to say. They were nice, that’s all.

Their recently born friendship nurtured on the hours they spent talking through a hole in the wall that separated their houses, whispered secrets and dreams going back and forth after the sun had gone down and night painted the sky with blue, purple, and black. While the moon hung above their heads and the stars shone softly in the darkest time of the day, Shouyou, Atsumu, and Osamu stretched the hours they could spend together, sitting among the bushes and the flowers, laughing quietly to not let their families know what they were doing.

When Shouyou was accepted into the Yako Junior High’s volleyball club, the twins were ecstatic. They’d taught him everything they knew albeit not being too much as they were beginners themselves. But it was one step to bring them all together, an event that strengthened their incipient friendship and forged it into something that would last for years.

Now, as Shouyou looks at Atsumu while remembering everything that had happened throughout the years he’s known him, he can’t help but feel astonished by the fact that someone like him and his twin had decided to be his friends. Hinata has a lot of friends; his classmates back at Yako Junior High, his prior teammates of the same school. Some of the other kids from the neighbourhood, a few peers he’d met at the volleyball championships. He loves them all and enjoys the time they get to spend together but in perspective, there’re no other friends like the Miya twins. Scary, tall, beefy, and using the mystic aura that seems to surround them as a weapon to keep Shouyou safe from the events he always goes through whenever he goes to the bathroom before a match.

The reasons as to why the Miya twins decided to let Shouyou into their shared, private, and tiny world are still a mystery to him. They had more neighbours, more people they could’ve let in. And yet the only person who had set foot behind the curtain they kept closed to everyone else was Hinata.

“Shouyou-kun.”

“Mhm?”

“Yer starin’.”

Hinata blinks, biting at the straw of his orange juice carton.

“Am I?”

Osamu laughs, flicking him in the middle of his brows. Shouyou lets out a whine, pressing his open palm against the spot that tingles with electricity due to the tap of Osamu’s nail.

“Don’t do that, Occhan,” he complains, pouting.

“What’re ya thinkin’ of?” Atsumu asks reaching out with his hand to pull at the straw, the plastic sliding between Shouyou's teeth until it’s out of his mouth. The feeling sends shivers down his spine, the sensation overcharging his nerves for a few seconds before subduing until it’s completely gone. “Ya thinkin’ ‘bout how handsome I am?”

Shouyou puffs out a laugh, trying with all his might to not roll his eyes and failing pathetically.

“To be honest, yeah, kinda. I was thinking about how handsome you are and how many men are even more handsome than you. Like Ushijima-san, from Shiratorizawa.”

Atsumu presses his hand to his chest, his tense fingers hovering over his heart with a pained expression so fake on his face that Shouyou can only laugh.

“That’s a low blow, Shouyou-kun,” he whines, raising his other hand to dry the inexistent tear in the corner of his eyes, “and what’s worse— yer even sayin’ Ushijima’s more handsome than ‘Samu.”

“Oh, no, he’s definitely more handsome than Ushijima-san.”

Osamu grins like a motherfucker, leans towards his twin and swings an arm around his shoulders. There’s a special kind of self-satisfaction written all over the features of his face and although Shouyou knows it’s fake (as well as the entire situation), he can’t help the giggle that bubbles up in his chest and his throat.

“See? Toldja. And now Shouyou-kun has given the verdict. Yer the inferior twin… it’s been known fer sixteen years.”

“Shut yer face.”

“The face that is, obviously, prettier than yours? Sure, ‘Tsumu.”

The twins fight like they always do and Shouyou just looks. He’s still amazed by both of them: the more explosive, feeling-driven Atsumu, and the calmer, more centred Osamu. Both monsters on the court, both feral, and they both belong to the small group of people Shouyou would walk Heaven, Earth, and Hell if needed to.

Atsumu is sitting in the chair that belongs to the classmate that sits right in front of him. The interior of his thighs presses against the tubes that form the backrest of the chair, his elbows pressing the wooden surface of Shouyou’s desk. Osamu, on the other hand, dragged the chair that belongs to the classmate that sits to Hinata’s left, sitting crisscrossed and looking kinda bored.

A few desks away, one of the girls of his class leans into the personal space of her friend. She whispers something, loud enough for the three of them to hear, and Shouyou’s back tenses.

“Atsumu-senpai is really cute, isn’t he?”

Atsumu cringes, his nose wrinkling. Something sparkles in his eyes and Shouyou has flashbacks of him silencing the crowd before one of his devastating serves.

“Not a word,” Shouyou warns, knowing all too well the frown of his lips and the offended look on his face. The way his shoulders seem to rise following the motion of the air going abruptly from his nose to his lungs. “There’s no need to be rude.”

Atsumu deflates, his shoulders slumping. His lips lose the frown, being immediately replaced by a pout that makes him look adorable. Hinata doesn’t feel surprised at the need to lean forward and kiss him. Not anymore. It’s been too long since he started feeling that _yearning_ to feel surprised now.

“I wasn’t gonna be _rude_ ,” he complains. The way his voice falls into that of a petulant child makes Hinata giggle, and through the corner of his eyes he sees his classmate blush. Oh yeah, he’d forgotten he’s not the only one to think Atsumu can be adorable when he really wants to. “I was—”

“Ya were gonna give her a piece of yer mind, yah, yah, we get it.”

Osamu’s voice sounds amused, the glint of his eyes saying he wants to make fun of his twin more than anything he’ll ever want. Shouyou remembers, then: he’s been part of ten of the sixteen years the Miya twins have lived. He _knows_ Osamu wants to make fun of his brother. He also knows Atsumu would and _will_ get riled up— that’s just how their dynamic works.

“Are y’all teamin’ up against me?” Atsumu asks, looking so offended Shouyou is grateful his orange juice is long gone. He would’ve probably spat it had he taken a swig of the carton. What comes out of his mouth isn’t orange juice but a burst of laughter that seems to bubble. He does nothing to muffle it. “This is unfair. Yer my _twin_ , ‘Samu, yer supposed ta _help me_.”

“Dontcha think it’s funnier ta annoy ya?”

Atsumu straight up _whines_ and Shouyou shakes his head. The reasons as to why the Miya twins decided to let Shouyou set foot in their little, private world are still a mystery to him, whereas the reasons as to why Shouyou’s heart decided to fall for Atsumu are very clear. He likes the way the sun reflects on his friend’s eyes, dusting the irises with golden specks that seem to undulate like glitter spiralling in oil. He likes the way Atsumu glues to his side whenever he needs to go to the bathroom before a match, looking lethal and thus making every single person who wants to pick up a fight with Hinata run away. He likes the way the muscles of his arms move under the tanned skin, tendons like cords moving like well-greased machines.

He likes his voice, his laughter, and his accent, the one he hasn’t been able to get rid of basically because he hasn’t tried. He likes his hair although he liked it more when it was dark brown; there was a special naturalness to it that Shouyou still misses. The bleached hair, though, makes it easier to differentiate him from Osamu, which is a plus. It also makes him look dangerous and Hinata has discovered he’s got a thing for boys who look like they could destroy his heart and his life.

Atsumu laughs at something Osamu just said and Shouyou just smiles. He’s got the prettiest laughter and he feels it dripping like honey, hovering so close to his skin he can almost feel the slick texture sliding over his fingertips.

He’s so in love with his best friend he can’t even begin to tell where his feelings end and where he as a person begins. It’s been so long since he started feeling like this— the hummingbird-like beating of his heart, the aching need to be closer, to pull him down by the collar of his shirt and smash his lips against Atsumu’s. All those things have evolved through the years and Shouyou can’t remember having felt the innocent crush of a child. Among the rampant hormones and the awakening of his deepest instincts, the feelings he’s harboured for so long he can’t remember when they started have become a part of his soul. He can’t picture a life where he, Hinata Shouyou, fifteen years old, isn’t in love with Miya Atsumu, sixteen years old, tall, muscular, and absolutely feral.

“I think Hinata-kun is cuter.”

The answer his classmate’s friend delivers, after what feels like an eternity, makes Hinata blink in confusion. The friendly bickering of the twins stops, three sets of eyes turning towards the girl sitting a few desks away. She goes red, flushed from her chest to the tip of her ears, stuttering an apology that doesn’t reach Shouyou’s ears.

“Not a word.”

Osamu’s voice is firm and sounds almost angry. Shouyou can’t understand why would he be angry.

“Shut yer face, ‘Samu.”

This time, Osamu doesn’t argue.

* * *

“Pssst. Shouyou-kun.”

Shouyou blinks the slumber away from his eyes, his eyelids fluttering like butterflies while his pupils adjust to the darkness of his room. There’s a hand gently placed on his shoulder, over the sheets, shaking him softly to help him wake up.

“Toldja this was a bad idea.”

“Zip it, ‘Samu.”

“What?” Shouyou mumbles, fidgeting under the covers. He fights against his own desire to go back to sleep, pressing the heel of his right hand against his eye to rub at it. He’s confused and groggy and his head isn’t catching up with the image of his best friends standing at the side of his bed, identical smiles plastered on their faces. In his sleepy state, Shouyou manages to think they’d never looked more like a pair of foxes as they do now. “What is it?”

“Slumber party!” Atsumu cheers, somehow managing to scream in his muttering. “In yer room!”

“What?” Shouyou repeats, his voice high-pitched and surprised. Consciousness is slowly dragging itself into his brain, pushing the dream that’s still fresh on his eyes into the darkest corner of his mind. His gaze goes from Atsumu to Osamu, blinking rapidly amidst his perplexity. “The fuck?”

Atsumu and Osamu look at him like they’d never seen him before.

“What’s this? Shouyou-kun knows how ta _swear_?” Osamu’s voice, as always, sounds amused. Shouyou wants to push him out of the open window.

“C’mon, now,” Atsumu complains, sitting on the mattress as if the room belongs to him. His back presses against the wall while he crosses his fingers behind his nape, sighing in content, “Let’s enjoy this last day of vacation before going ta the training camp.”

“Acchan,” Hinata sighs, his fingers reaching his temples to rub soothing circles on them. He can feel the beginning of a headache starting to press its fingertips in the middle of his brain. “What time is it?”

“Quarter past two in the morning,” he sing-songs, looking like he’s just discovered the cure for cancer. Why does he look so proud? Why is he sitting on Shouyou’s bed? It’s not like it’s the first time the twins get into his room in the middle of the night but that used to happen when they were kids. And Shouyou didn’t have _suspicious dreams_ when the twins infiltrated under his covers at eight years old. “C’mon, make room for ‘Samu.”

“How am I supposed to fit you both in my bed?”

“Ya sleep on me, duh.”

“Get the fuck outta my house.”

“If I may,” Osamu starts, coughing to clear his throat. Shouyou’s eyes, still heavy from sleeping and still not adjusted to the bluish darkness of his room, move from Atsumu to his twin. His eyebrows rise on his forehead, waiting for him to continue, as if he expected a new reason to push both of them out of the window, “we brought futons. We don’t need ta sleep on yer bed.”

“Ya steal the fun from everythin’, dontcha?”

“Atsumu-senpai,” Shouyou drags on, smiling. The shoulder that’s pressed against Hinata’s tenses and the proud smile on his best friend’s face loses some of its brightness. He looks scared enough to make Shouyou feel a bit better. Good. The only reason Shouyou would call him ‘senpai’ is because he’s angry as hell. “If you don’t follow ‘Samu’s instructions, I’ll push you out of the window. Got it?”

“What happened ta ya?” Atsumu says, dramatically. He slides off of the bed anyway, crossing his arms over his chest to look at Shouyou as if he’d disappointed him so deeply he’d never be able to make it up to him. “Did puberty make ya a mini-ogre or somethin’?”

“I was sleepin’!” he hisses, accent thickening amidst his ridiculous anger. Why is he so mad? Is it because the twins woke him up? Or is it because the sudden intrusion dragged him out of a dream that felt all too well for his own good? He can still remember what the dream was about and having Atsumu sitting on his bed after something like _that_ doesn’t help Hinata to pull himself together. “Ya couldn’t, I don’t know, call? Throw pebbles at my window like a normal person? Ya had ta come into my room in the middle of the night and scare the shit outta me fer no reason at all!”

“Oh.”

“Yah. Oh.”

“This’s ridiculous,” Osamu says. Shouyou’s eyes are on him again, lips pressed into a thin, tense line that’s making his jaw pulse with the effort, “Why’re ya so mad? ‘S not the first time we do this, ain’t it?”

“No,” Hinata grumbles.

Osamu frowns slightly and Shouyou knows he’s about to press the topic until he gets an answer that satisfies his curiosity.

“Then?”

“Oh wait, hold on… were ya havin’ a wet dream or somethin’ like that?”

Shouyou blushes from his chest to the tip of the ears. He’s thankful for the darkness, knowing the twins can’t see his face.

He’s wrong. They _can_ see it.

“Holy shit, Shouyou-kun was havin’ a wet dream!”

Atsumu’s voice is too loud. The beating of his heart, drumming inside of his ribcage like it wants to break bones and flesh to run away from its place, is too loud, too, overwhelming his ears. Hinata covers his face with his hands, so mortified he doesn’t think he’ll be able to look his best friends in the eyes ever again. The sudden need to cover his entire body with the sheets, up until the top of his head, is almost too strong to resist it.

“Please shut up,” he begs through his fingers.

“Nah, don’t sweat it, man. We all have ‘em. Was that cute girl that said yer cuter than ‘Tsumu?”

“Can’t you just prepare your futons and go to sleep, please?”

“Yessir.”

Of course they answer at the same time. And _of course_ they’re smiling because their only goal in life is to torment Shouyou.

It takes Hinata several hours before being able to fall asleep again. His breath feels raspy in his throat while he listens to Atsumu’s soft snoring, making him impossible to ignore. He stands out like a sore thumb wherever he goes, and in the reduced space of his bedroom it feels like he’s suffocating him. Before falling asleep again, the only idea on Hinata’s mind was to _run for the hills_.

He wakes up when the sun is rising over the horizon, its golden fingers reaching out into the world. The soft glow casts long shadows over the floor, drawing the world with a sepia-like brush that seems to make the harsh angles of the furniture softer and more welcoming.

Hinata sighs in content. What a beautiful Monday morning to start the training camp.

“Shouyou-kun,” someone says. Hinata’s back tenses, something in his neck snapping when his head turns violently to his right, finding one of Atsumu’s eyes peering at him through his eyelashes. He’s sprawled under the covers and Shouyou _just_ noticed his right arm is loosely slung over his waist, “go back ta sleep.”

“’Acchan?!”

“Shhh. Go back ta sleep.”

There’re a lot of things he wants to say. Why is he in Shouyou’s bed? When did that happen? Why is he hugging him like that?

He doesn’t say anything, though. He just pouts, sighs in defeat, and looks at the clock on his nightstand, relieved to see the tiny, green numbers announcing how he still has a few hours before he has to get up to get ready.

So he complies, letting his head plop back onto de pillow, closing his eyes. Too tired to even think about Atsumu’s arm around his waist, about how his grip tightens a little, Shouyou drifts back to sleep.

* * *

Nationals are amazing. They’re exciting and they’re everything Shouyou had expected them to be. It’s kind of sad how he didn’t get to play on the first day but that doesn’t seem to make his bubbly energy subdue. He’s vibrating with it, so anxious —in a good way— to stand on the court that Kita has to put a hand on his shoulder to stop him from doing some irreparable damage to the bleachers’ seat.

“Calm down, Hinata-kun,” he says, giving him an amused glare. Hinata smiles up at him, raising his stare from his phone. He has to crane his neck a little to look at him, Kita leaning over the backrest of his seat to reach out to him, “you’ll do great.”

“Thank you, Kita-san!” he chirps, blushing a little. It’s not common for Kita to deliver compliments like that because he’s more focused on keeping the twins on track. But Hinata won’t complain nor will he turn down nice words from their captain.

“How come you’re never like that with us, Kita-san?” Atsumu complains, pouting. Shouyou giggles at the lack of accent, the respect in his friend’s voice dripping like honey. Looks like he wants to be on Kita’s good side for today.

Shouyou doesn’t hear the answer. He’s too focused on the game that’s developing on the court right in front of them. He gets up from his seat in the first row, leaning to the front to cross his arms over the veranda, his chin plopped over his hands. This is the first time he’s ever heard of both schools but they’re both scary; Tsubakihara, with such tall, strong players, and Karasuno, with the setter that Atsumu was talking about from the All Youth Japan camp. He’s so good he could be even better than his friend and something in his stomach churns: the idea doesn’t seem to sit right on his brain. It’s weird to think there’re better setters than Atsumu out there although he knows it’s completely possible. Not only in Japan, but around the entire world, someone _must_ be better than him.

Hinata pouts, pure energy buzzing through his nerves. He wants to play. He wants to spike. He wants Karasuno to win this game because he knows that if they do, they’d end up playing against them. There’s been some time since he’s wanted to face another team like this, his fingers tingling with the ghost feeling of a mid-air toss, his palm aching for the sting of a well-spiked ball.

“Whatcha lookin’ at?”

Osamu’s voice sounds curious. His dark eyes fix on the match, stare going from one player to another. He examines both teams with an attentive gaze, something that’d make Shouyou shiver had he been the focus of that terrifying analysis.

“That’s the setter Acchan was talking about the other day, isn’t he?” he says, pointing at Kageyama with his chin. “Kageyama Tobio.”

“Ah, yah. He’s good, ain’t he?” Osamu chuckles lightly, an interested glint shining in his eyes. Shouyou feels a pang of fear go down his spine, something’s he’s felt several times before. Osamu looks hungry and Shouyou can’t even fathom how hungry Atsumu will look once he finally pays attention to the game instead of being fast asleep on Suna’s shoulder. “I’ve no idea why ‘Tsumu isn’t watchin’ him. He looked like he could give an entire PowerPoint presentation ‘bout Kageyama.”

“He probably didn’t sleep last night.”

“Yah, probs.”

Shouyou’s eyes go back to the court at the same time the referee’s whistle pierces through the sound of the crowd cheering. The match’s ended and Karasuno advances to the next round. Hinata smiles: he gets to play against an amazing school.

“Ya excited, Shouyou-kun?” Osamu asks, looking at him with a knowing expression softening his features.

“Very.” He answers, and those two syllables seem to be funny because Osamu laughs. He’s not mocking him, he’s just amused, and Shouyou knows this. Shouyou _knows_ his friend is as excited as he is and they both share a few laughs before completely sobering up. “We gotta win tomorrow.”

“We _always_ gotta win, Shouyou-kun.”

And so they do, the next day. Kageyama is as amazing as Atsumu had promised and his team is a scary rival. Crows, Hinata learns during that match, are omnivorous. They eat whatever they can find; they thrive wherever they go because they’re not picky eaters. Karasuno’s game style doesn’t seem to fall under any other category than _attack_. Over and over again, risking it all in each play. They seem to have no fear when it comes to bets and they always go all out.

They’re scary. So scary Hinata wants to play again, _and again_ , against them. Doesn’t matter if the next time it’s their turn to lose, doesn’t matter if Hinata has to drink from the bitter cup of defeat. There’re more important things than winning, and while he shakes Kageyama’s hand under the net, he smiles from ear to ear.

Kageyama’s blue eyes shine with surprise and caution. He looks like he’s just seen a monster.

“Let’s play another time, Kageyama-kun,” he says, a hungry glint on his eyes.

The setter smiles and it’s terrifying in the same way his team is.

“You bet.”

Inarizaki loses in the next round and they have to go home. Nekoma is terrifying too, just in a different way. There where Karasuno goes all out and wears their opponents out by sheer raw power and constant attacks, Nekoma wears out Inarizaki with patience and cold logic. They keep connecting, over and over again, until Hinata’s arms are sore and tired and he can’t even jump.

The team’s good. The other setter is good too. He’s interested. He wants to play again, wants to be his friend.

After the match, he introduces himself. The other setter’s name is Kozume Kenma, and he’s sixteen. He’s Shouyou’s senpai and although he goes for the honorific, Kozume turns him down on it: he doesn’t like the hierarchy of age. And so he goes from “Kozume-senpai” to “Kenma” in the blink of an eye.

Hinata goes back home with sore limbs and sadness in his heart. Defeat is always bitter and there’s anger in the twins’ eyes: they’ll win next time.

He doesn’t doubt it, not even for a single second.

* * *

“I’m going to Brazil.”

Atsumu looks at him like he’s never seen him before.

“Ya _what_?”

“I wanna play beach volleyball,” he explains, feeling kind of uncomfortable under his best friend’s gaze. “I wanna get better and I need to try something else to improve my game.”

Atsumu looks like he wants to say something. Shouyou’s sure there’re a lot of things he wants to ask, a lot of arguments to convince him of staying, to make him forget the idea. Hinata can feel it in the way his lips press until they become a pale line, his eyes shining with something Shouyou’s seen only once before.

He feels abandoned; he’s scared Shouyou won’t come back. He’s scared there’s something more interesting over there, something that’ll convince him to stay and never return. Shouyou knows it because he’d feel the same way if Atsumu was the one saying he’s going to the other side of the world.

“When?”

“Next year.”

“For how long?”

“Two years,” he answers, shrugging. He clears his throat, trying to get rid of the stiffness that tenses the insides of his neck, tries to control the accelerated pulse beating in the vein of his neck, “Kenma’s paying my tickets and Ushijima-san made arrangements with Washijo-sensei to get me to train with a Shiratorizawa graduate.”

Atsumu snorts. He’s never liked the “friendship” he has with Ushijima. Not after that comment of him being more handsome than Atsumu during Hinata’s first year.

“I swear ta god,” he sighs, rubbing at his temples, “yer gonna kill me one of these days.”

Hinata giggles, fighting furiously against the impulse of brushing the strands of hair out of Atsumu’s eyes.

“I really hope it goes well,” Atsumu continues, looking softer, gentler now, “I know it will, though.”

“How come?”

“I mean, we’re talkin’ ‘bout ya, aren’t we? Ya have this way of _always_ gettin’ whatcha want. It’s infuriatin’.”

Shouyou laughs, the sound incredulous and bubbly. Atsumu presses his hand against his face, pushing him away to not see the broad smile that connects Shouyou’s ears. He laughs some more, complains about how he’s going to fall off the bed, and Atsumu lets him go with a chuckle.

“Good luck, Shouyou-kun.”

Shouyou smiles softly. Atsumu looks like he’s missing him already.

The year goes by and Kenma delivers the tickets for him to go to Brazil. Shouyou whoops, thanks him profusely, makes him blush a little due to his over-the-board way of expressing his feelings. With the money he’s making with his company and through YouTube, Kenma can allow himself some luxury. According to him, if Shouyou ever stops being interesting he’ll drop him and Hinata really hopes that doesn’t happen any time soon.

There’s a party to celebrate his trip because the ex-members of Inarizaki don’t want to call it “a goodbye party”. It sounds too gloomy and they prefer to settle for throwing a party for the good luck of getting to travel around the world. Shouyou silently thanks them: he can’t even think of saying goodbye without crying. He knows he’ll spill some tears nonetheless but the name change helps to lift his spirit.

There’s food, courtesy of ‘Samu, drinks, and a lot of laughter. Shouyou has a good time, enjoys spending that last day in Japan with the people he loves the most outside of his family. His little sister, Natsu, had cried the entire day when she remembered he was leaving, and this little gathering was helping him to get rid of the sour taste of his sister’s sadness.

The party ends early; Shouyou has to get to the airport two hours before the flight and he’ll need to wake up early to get there with no problems. His friends say their goodbyes, promise to go with him when he leaves for the airport.

He tries not to cry but to no avail: he ends up crying anyway. Kita hugs him, tells him he’s gonna be okay. He was Inarizaki’s tiny ace during his third year after all. If he can earn that title, he can do whatever he puts his mind into.

If his goal was to stop Shouyou from crying, he fails miserably. He sheds a few more tears, thanks him from the bottom of his heart. Kita’s just too good for his own sake and Hinata keeps nothing but good memories of his captain during his first year. He wishes he could’ve played a bit more alongside such an amazing member of the team and captain but life is what it is.

He doesn’t regret a single thing.

When the rest of his friends leave and the only one who stays behind is Atsumu, Hinata realizes he regrets one thing. One single thing, something that’s been bothering him for as long as he can remember. And whiles he looks at Atsumu, who’s telling Osamu he’ll be with him in a minute, Shouyou can’t help but grin.

“Hey, Acchan,” he calls, giving him a little wave to catch his attention.

Atsumu glances at him, gifts him one of those lopsided smiles Hinata’s come to adore over the years. His heart flutters in his chest, a feeling he’s gotten so used to by now he’s surprised he can notice it anymore. It feels like standing right in front of a cliff, the burning need to give that one step forward consuming him to the very marrow of his bones. It’s hard to forget how handsome Atsumu is, how charming he can be when he really wants to.

How kind he really is behind that tough, stoic exterior he tries so hard to keep.

“So,” Atsumu begins, standing right in front of Shouyou, stepping on the limit of his personal space, “tomorrow, huh?”

“Yeah. Tomorrow.”

The word seems to hide something beneath, something none of them would acknowledge. The elephant in the room for Hinata and something he can’t fathom for Atsumu. It’s hard to guess what he’s thinking; he’s always been hard to read. And Shouyou, who’s got a little talent with that of reading people and the atmosphere of a room, feels a little taken aback when Atsumu smiles down at him, like a fox, a mysterious glint on his eyes.

“There’s something I wanna tell you before I chicken out and get on that plane,” he begins, fidgeting. This is it, isn’t it? This is the moment he’d never thought he’d live, the single event that’d change everything that he is and everything he has. There’re so many options and so many outcomes to what he wants to say, and something inside of him tells him it’d be okay if he left the country without opening his mouth but he’s not one to back off a challenge.

“Oh yah? What’s it?”

Shouyou opens his mouth to speak, closes it without saying a word. His throat feels as dry as glass, as dry as the sand of the Sahara desert constantly burned by the scorching sun. He can feel the cold, sticky sweat that covers his palms, tries his best not to rub them against the hem of his jeans to dry them off. He’s never been so nervous to talk to Atsumu before, and he gets it— he’s about to confess his _undying love_ for his best friend but come on, does it really need to be that hard?

Atsumu tilts his head, waits patiently for him to put himself together and function like a normal human being. If he wants to rush Shouyou, he doesn’t let it show. It’s so easy for him to pretend, to fake and to lie, a protection mechanism he’s developed through the years when he realized he’s a monster amongst humans. The only monster, the only one as obsessed as him for volleyball, is Shouyou himself.

His partner in crime, his best friend, his teammate. Shouyou’s the only one who’s ever been allowed to set foot into that small, private world that surrounds the Miya twins, that world that seems to be hidden behind a heavy curtain. As he opens his mouth again to speak, Hinata realizes how privileged he is: the mysterious world shared by the Miya twins is also his to modify and settle into. He’s been given the gift of peering behind the bushes, to take the twins’ hands and travel into something everyone wants to know.

“I’m in love with you,” he says, surprised at how easy it is to say it. The words feel so right in his mouth and his tongue goes over the syllables as if he’d pronounced them million times before. He seems to know every sound that leaves his mouth, seems to be able to see them in every language that has ever existed. He can almost see them in the air, written beautifully, and he congratulates himself when he notices the anxiety has definitely left his body, “have been since I was a kid.”

Atsumu blinks and Shouyou finds out that he doesn’t mind if his next words are those of rejection. He feels at ease now, feels like a heavy, overwhelming weight has been lifted off of his shoulders. He sighs in content and smiles, waiting patiently for an answer that he really doesn’t need.

“’m flattered,” Atsumu says, looking sad. Shouyou’s heart squeezes in his chest, not because of his words but for the expression of his face. His friend looks away, ashamed, and sighs in defeat, “and I really appreciate yer feelings, but… I don’t feel the same way.”

“I know,” he chirps, chuckling. Atsumu’s looking at him now, the surprise in his eyes akin to that he bore when Shouyou told him he was going to Brazil. He seems to long for something, and Hinata feels saddened at his best friend’s expression, “I’ve always known. But I wanted to tell you before I left.”

“Shouyou—”

“I’m fine, ‘Tsumu,” he giggles, reaching out with his hands, placing them on his friend’s shoulders. He squeezes lightly, trying to lift his spirit, trying to make him see he doesn’t feel disappointed at all. “I didn’t need to hear you say it’s requited. I didn’t expect you to confess back to me. I’m happy with this, y’know? Just telling you how I feel is enough.”

“But—”

“Trust me on this one, okay? I’m sorry to make you sad, but there’re things that needed to be said. This was one of ‘em. I’ll be okay.”

Atsumu doesn’t look like he trusts him but he says he’ll do it anyway.

The next morning, his friend doesn’t show up at the airport. For the first time in Shouyou’s life, Atsumu isn’t part of one of those parts of his story.

* * *

Brazil is different, the language is hard, and he doesn’t seem to fit in this part of the world. People are so touchy, even more than him, and he’s been here for three whole weeks and doesn’t seem to be able to get used to those cheek-kiss-greetings. His roommate, Pedro, doesn’t look like he likes him either.

He feels lonely. He misses his house, misses his mother and his sister. Misses his best friends infiltrating in his room in the quiet of the night to throw a surprise sleepover. Shouyou misses Atsumu’s cooking and ‘Atsumu’s snarky comments. He misses speaking his own language, the food, and the weather.

Atsumu isn’t texting him as constantly as he’d like. It seems as if something had broken between the two of them and Osamu seems to contain the urge of smacking his brother every time Shouyou asks if there’s something going on.

The lack of contact with one of his best friends and the person he’s been in love with for more than half of his life ends with a depressed Shouyou who’s been doubting his decision of coming to Brazil. He wonders if he made a mistake, wonders if it’s really worth it.

He meets a Japanese guy on the beach. He approaches Hinata when he hears him speaking Japanese without meaning to. His name’s Oikawa; he plays for an Argentinian volleyball team. He’s a pro, everything Shouyou longs for, and he’s so damn good he can’t help but feel impressed. He seems to get the hang of beach volleyball easier than Shouyou, seems to learn the tricks after a few games.

Oikawa’s staying in Brazil for five days, and Shouyou is thrilled. He shows him around Rio, is surprised when Oikawa invites him for dinner. Doesn’t say no when Oikawa pushes him against the door of his room or when he leans down to kiss him. He welcomes him with open arms and an eager mouth, forgets about Atsumu for one night.

He’s known the guy for three days but it doesn’t matter. They’re two foreigners in a strange land, a place where people laugh louder than back at home, people that touch too much when both of them are not used to it. They share language, culture, and similar backgrounds. They share the same homesickness, the same food and the same weather. They crave the skin of an equal and they find it under the Brazilian moonlight that filters through the blinds of Hinata’s room.

They’ll be fine, if only for tonight.

Oikawa leaves that Friday, asks him his number. Shouyou complies, smiling. Oikawa smirks at him before leaning down for one last kiss. Hinata follows him with his gaze while he enters the airport with his suitcase’s wheels rattling against the pavement.

Brazil is different and overwhelming. But after Oikawa disappears behind the glass doors of the airport, he feels better. Just a little piece of home he got to wrap his arms around, a little piece to remind him why he’s here. He loves volleyball and he loves his best friend, but the latter doesn’t really matter.

He hops on his bike, humming a song while he pedals away through the crowded streets of Rio de Janeiro. It really doesn’t matter where he is, doesn’t matter how complicated things can feel, life always seems to give him a reason to push through.

 _«Ya have this way of **always** gettin’ whatcha want. It’s infuriatin’_».

He laughs at the memory and ignores the pang of pain that pierces his chest. He doesn’t regret telling Atsumu how he feels and doesn’t regret feeling this way towards him either. He left Japan without a single regret, doesn’t matter what the consequences of his last actions could be. Atsumu is his friend, and because of that, Shouyou trusts him blindly. He’ll come around eventually and Hinata can wait.

After all, Atsumu had said he has a way of always getting what he wants, doesn’t matter if he finds it infuriating or not. One way or another, his friendship with Atsumu will be repaired; time will take care of it.

Shouyou’s bike disappears when he turns in the next corner and he sighs in content.

The journey’s just beginning and he’s eager to see the scenery from the top, as he’s always wanted. He feels like a kid, falling in love with volleyball in the twins’ room all over again.

* * *

Hinata returns to Japan after Heitor’s wedding. It’s been two years and he’s twenty-two now, and the excitement he feels doesn’t disappear when he steps on his country’s ground. He inhales deeply, letting the breeze caress his hair and his face. He misses the salty breeze of the ocean and the sound of the waves but his body buzzes with energy at the knowledge of finally being back at home.

“I’m back,” he whispers as he passes through the glass doors that lead to the rest of the airport. The sound of his own language hits him suddenly, leaves him breathless and fills him with adoration; oh, how he’d missed the sound, the grammar, and all those unique quirks of his mother tongue.

“Shouyou!”

His mother’s voice snaps him out of his thoughts. He feels the squeeze of his heart and has to swallow the tears that well up in his eyes. Her voice sounded so different through the phone and yet the same but there’s something different in hearing it when she’s just a few meters away from him. She waves, and from the distance that separates them, he can see she’s crying as well.

Natsu has grown several centimetres since the last time he saw her. Her hair is longer, everything about her is different and more mature, and Shouyou feels a wave of nostalgia crash through him. As he runs to them, the wheels of his suitcase rattling against the floor, Hinata can’t help but think of the baby that used to fall asleep between his arms.

He hugs them, tells them how much he’s missed them. Kisses his mother on both cheeks, showers Natsu with affection until she’s blushing and asking him to stop, saying it’s embarrassing. He laughs, ignoring her request and the pout that scrunches her nose and keeps on peppering kisses all over her face.

She doesn’t understand. Neither does his mother.

But that’s okay.

His house looks exactly the same as the last time he saw it: the trees, the garden, the backyard. The drawing-room, the doors with their rice paper. The first time he takes off his shoes to enter his house after coming back, his eyes burn with non-spilled tears.

This is no piece of his life: this is his _whole life_ and he’s missed it so much it hurts. The ache he seemed to have forgotten when he met Oikawa returns in full force, doubles the pain as if it’s trying to get revenge for having been ignored for so long, but he can ease it now with his bed, with the warm, salty, and love-filled taste of his mother’s cooking.

Osamu is there the next morning, wearing his business t-shirt. He hugs him tight, showers him with the affection of those who’ve been feeling the lack of something important in their life. Shouyou hugs him back, asks him how things are going with Onigiri Miya. Asks him if Atsumu has gotten over the fact that he isn’t playing volleyball anymore.

His friend fills him in; Atsumu’s playing in the professional volleyball league, he got to be the setter of a team in the first division. Shouyou knows this because of his sporadic conversations with Atsumu —whenever he _honoured_ by answering a text message every once in a blue moon—, but lets Osamu speak to his heart content. He’s missed his voice and has missed the way he feels protected around him. It’s something that feels akin to being with Atsumu but it’s not quite the same. He doesn’t mind. The fact that he’s still in love with Atsumu doesn’t mean that he can’t enjoy being with his other best friend.

It’s Osamu the one to suggest he should go the try-outs for the Black Jackals— the team Atsumu’s playing in. Shouyou rejects the idea: he doesn’t want to impose. Time hasn’t been able to heal the wound he’d seemed to carve into their friendship and he doesn’t feel ready to face him if things aren’t okay between them. It’s better this way, he thinks. He knows the MSBY Black Jackals is the only team that’s got public try-outs but he’ll come up with something.

He always does.

Osamu purses his lips, gives him that tell-tale look that says he wants to smack Shouyou’s face in. He understands: he shouldn’t put his personal affairs over his career but he’s just not ready. He can’t force himself to be in an awkward situation, the same way he can’t force his presence on Atsumu if he doesn’t want him around.

“I’ll break his jaw and that’ll make him wantcha around.”

Hinata giggles and shakes his head.

“It’s not necessary, Occhan. Just give me some time, yeah? I’ll figure something out.”

Osamu squints at him, looking like he doesn’t trust him. He’s got the same expression Atsumu had the night before Shouyou got up on his plane on his way to Brazil but he says nothing about it. Getting rid of the topic with a curlicue of his hand, he dives in directly into his two years in Brazil.

His friend doesn’t swallow it but he too refrains from saying something about the topic change.

Shouyou thanks him with a smile and goes on and on about all the things he’s seen, he’s done, and he’s learned.

It’s after a few days of not having come up with something to fix his teeny tiny problem that he finally decides to go to the Black Jackals’ public try-outs. He’s got no other choice but to surrender to his destiny: he doesn’t have enough contacts to get himself a try-out with any other team and although he knows Ushijima plays for the Adlers, he doesn’t trust in actually making it into the team.

Osamu’s thrilled when he finally tells him. He looks like he wants to say “I toldja so”, but he doesn’t do it and Hinata’s thankful for his thoughtfulness. He groans at the mere thought of hearing the phrase but his mood lightens up when his friend offers to arrange a welcome party for him in one of Tokyo’s izayaka.

“It’s on me,” he says, smiling widely, wider than Shouyou’s never seen before.

“You’re amazing, Occhan.”

“Nah, ‘m just a good friend.”

Hinata understands the underlying meaning of his words and makes a face. Osamu just laughs but there’s a hardness to his expression that wasn’t there a second ago.

He’s so angry at Atsumu that Hinata wants to take everything back. He should’ve never told him about this “little” issue of his. He feels as if he’d fractured something that cannot be repaired and has the sudden urge to smack himself.

Osamu travels with him to Tokyo after arranging a welcome party with the members of the team. Suna, Kita, Ojiro… everyone’s invited and Shouyou feels like exploding of happiness. After two years he finally gets to see his friends again. He also gets to see Kenma, whose sponsorship saved him more than once back in Brazil. He lets him and Osamu crash at his place and promises to keep doing it until he gets the results of the try-outs.

He could cry but he doesn’t because Osamu would never let him live that down. Kenma just laughs at his expression and pats him on the back with an understanding smile.

It’s good to be home.

“’Tsumu said he’ll be comin’ ta the party, by the way.”

His back tenses and the shirt he’s holding slides between his fingers, hitting the floor before he can even notice it. Peering at Osamu through the corner of his eyes, Hinata thinks this is some sort of cruel joke. Albeit knowing Osamu would never do such a thing, his brain jumps into conclusions before he can stop it: he doesn’t want to see Atsumu just yet. He still hasn’t made peace with the fact of having to see him the day of the try-outs, let alone see him _before_ he really needs to. It’s too rushed, too soon, and it’ll hurt more than he’ll ever admit out loud.

“Did he, now,” it’s all he says, clearing his throat. He crouches to retrieve the shirt, folds it again and places it on the guest room’s closet. Hinata can feel Osamu’s eyes on him, following every single one of his motions, but he tries to ignore them. “I don’t think he’ll be there, though.”

The words are out of his mouth before he can stop them, but it feels so good to vocalize them, to turn his thoughts into sounds, that he doesn’t bother with feeling as if he should’ve kept them behind his lips. It feels the same when he confessed to Atsumu— there’re some things that need to be said after all. This is one of them.

“I don’t think so either.”

* * *

The izayaka empties gradually with the passing of the hours. Costumers, drunker than Shouyou would really like, make bee-lines around the tables and leave the establishment with loud barks of laughter and slurred words that hold no sense to anyone but the ones that are as drunk as them.

His nose wrinkles when he cringes at the sight. He’s been drunk before, yes. Back in Brazil, when he couldn’t hold his alcohol quite yet, he’d get home with a confused mind and blabbered sentences that switched languages midway, hopping from Portuguese to Japanese in the blink of an eye. The idea of having lost the ability to _actually function_ makes him feel anxious with the ghost of all the _what-ifs_. He was in a foreign country after all, and he barely knew the language. What if something had happened to him?

Maybe that’s exactly the reason as to why he feels so uncomfortable looking at the salary men that leave the izayaka with an alcohol-induced haze in their eyes. Because he knows what it feels.

“You okay there, Hinata-kun?”

Kita’s voice pierces through the fog that has lifted in Hinata’s brain, makes his train of thought crash and burn. He blinks at the reality, confused for the sudden change of environment— from his head to the real world, there where all the things do happen and he tries to adjust, but it’s complicated with the sake tingling in the tip of his fingers and the interior of his thighs.

Okay, maybe he rushed a little to judge the salary men leaving the izayaka. Perhaps he’s a teeny tiny bit drunk himself.

Not that he’s never gonna let Kita know this. He would never put himself in a position that would make him lose Kita Shinsuke’s respect.

“Just a little dizzy,” he answers, grinning at his senpai. Kita’s eyes are fixed on him, a knowing smile tugging at the corners of his mouth over the rim of his glass of beer. “I’ve never had sake, after all.”

Osamu, sitting at his right, snorts out a laugh that says he doesn’t believe a single word that just came out of Shouyou’s mouth.

“Sure,” he starts, smirking like a motherfucker, “just _a little_ dizzy.”

Hinata pouts, his empty glass of sake tapping repeatedly against the wooden surface of the table when his forehead bumps it. He lets out a whine, a sound he didn’t leave behind when he became an adult, and glares at Osamu through the corner of his eyes. His friend’s gaze finds his and there’s a fondness in his irises that makes him feel all warm and fuzzy on the inside.

This is one of his best friends in the world. The one that’d escort him during his bathroom escapades before their matches. The one that shares the same face with the man he’s been in love with for as long as he can remember but somehow manages to be so different he doesn’t understand how could someone ever confuse them.

“C’mon, Occhan,” he begins, his pout taking a more childish tinge just to highlight that yes, he does feel like a child, because being with Osamu makes him remember his childhood with such ease it feels like he’s living it all over again. Osamu raises his eyebrows, waiting for him to continue. There was something Hinata wanted to say, but his fuzzy mind doesn’t let him focus enough to reach the thoughts that had been together until a few seconds ago, “ugh, nevermind.”

Osamu laughs, reaching out to ruffle his hair.

“Yer adorable when yer drunk, didja know that?”

“Don’t make fun of me, I just got home!”

“That just sounds like a bigger reason to make fun of you,” Suna pipes in from Shouyou’s left. His eyes look amused and Shouyou can’t remember if he’s looked so distended before. “Don’t give him another reason to pick a fight with you.”

“I hate you all. Except for Kita-san. He’s a saint and he didn’t deserve to endure three years with all of you.”

There’s a general burst of laughter that makes him blush for a moment before joining them, laughing until his throat is sore and his head is spinning. He can’t quite differentiate if it’s due to the alcohol or not, so he settles for thinking it’s the happiness that blossoms in his chest.

The party ends a few hours after that and the last two clients in the izayaka are him and Osamu.

Shouyou is sipping at his fifth beer of the night when Osamu decides he’s had enough.

“’m gonna kill him.”

“You don’t need to, though.”

“He _promised_ he’d come. Why hasn’t he sent a text or called? Is it really so hard fer him ta stop bein’ an asshole fer fuckin’ once?”

“Occhan,” Shouyou utters with a pained expression, “I knew he wouldn’t come. Really, ‘m fine.”

“Oh yah? Well, fuckin’ good for ya, but ‘m not.”

“I’m not the one you’re mad at,” Shouyou sighs, softly.

“Fuck. Yer right. Sorry, it’s just— he didn’t have ta do _this_ , y’know?”

Shouyou chuckles despite himself, giving one last swig to his beer before putting it down and calling the waitress to ask for the check. He’s got nothing else to do there and he’s too drunk to think straight. He just wants to go home, curl up in his futon, and sleep until the dizziness of the alcohol fades away.

“You gotta wake up early tomorrow. Go home, ‘Samu.”

“Where’re ya goin’?”

“I don’t know,” he answers, and he really means it. He just wants to roam the town a little, clear his head before calling an Uber and going back to Kenma’s house. “But I’ll be fine.”

“Ya sure?”

“Absolutely. Go.”

Osamu frowns. He doesn’t look like he believes a single word Hinata just said but he seems to see something in his expression that makes him sigh in defeat. He ruffles Hinata’s hair, asks him to call him once he’s safe and sound in Kenma’s house and leaves through the door. Hinata taps his finger against his empty glass of beer and spends ten minutes looking at absolutely nothing —he must’ve been looking at _something_ , but he’s too out of it to notice— before following his friend’s steps and making his way to the door.

The very moment he steps out of the izayaka, the chilly air of Tokyo seeps through his clothes and seems to sober him up. He’s almost forgotten how cold his country can really be but pays it no mind while he zips up his jacket and fishes his pockets, looking for his phone.

He’s got a new message, received thirty minutes ago. The small, red circle of the notification seems to shine brighter than the whole screen when he slides down the panel of the menu of his phone.

 _Atsumu_.

‘Tsumu [01:30] hey, shou, be there in a few. had a few problems, i’ll explain when i get there

Blinking at the message, Shouyou lets out a shaky breath. The pain of having waited for him the whole night comes crashing down with such strength he has to press his palm flat against the bricks of the izayaka to find leverage. There’re tears in his eyes, his vision blurring until the only thing he can see are blobs of colour that seem to shine in uncoordinated angles. The edges of reality seem to crash one against another until all that’s left is the sound of the choked sobs he feels kicking at the back of his throat.

He realizes it then; it’s not the fact of waiting the whole night, it’s the fact that he’s been waiting _for two years_ for Atsumu to make up his fucking mind and stop being a child about something that happened what feels like an eternity ago. He was a different person back then, and yes, he’s still in love with him —he doubts he’ll ever stop loving him like this— but that didn’t give him the right to try and erase everything they used to be. Shouyou expected better, _knew_ Atsumu could do better— and yet he had the nerve to betray his trust.

Hinata feels hurt. He feels betrayed and feels like he deserves the biggest fucking apology gesture to ever exist. Atsumu had no right. He had _no damned right to do that to him_ and he better got on his knees the very moment he sees Shouyou because he’s been in the wrong this whole time and Hinata isn’t one to ask for retributions, but he feels like screaming if he doesn’t do it.

He presses his back against the wall, lets out another shaky breath while pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes until his vision is filled with red stars. He doesn’t have enough alcohol in his system to deal with this right now and the temptation to leave is so big he’s eager to give in. He wants to give Atsumu a spoonful of his own medicine, to make him feel the poison of betrayal and the hurt of a cold shoulder. The venom in his throat expands, pushes him to give a step forward and start walking to the next corner to call a taxi, an Uber, whatever he can find, to go home.

“Shouyou-kun!”

Hinata freezes mid-step, his heart skipping a beat. The venom in his throat subdues slowly, backpedalling little by little with each beat of his accelerated hear. His fingers tingle with an aching need, akin to that of the desire of tossing, his palms burning with the same desire of spiking a toss.

He turns around on his heels and fixes his gaze on Atsumu, who’s running at full speed to him.

Hinata slaps him the very moment he stops in front of him and he doesn’t feel guilty when he hears the hiss of pain that leaves Atsumu’s mouth through his gritted teeth.

“Fuckin’ _ow_ ,” he spits, pressing his palm against his cheek. “What in the ass, Shouyou—”

“Two years,” he growls, his voice high pitched and raspy in his throat. His accent thickens with anger, every thought so close to the other he’s having problems differentiating them, “ _two fuckin’ years_ and thirty-seven messages. Not _a single call_ , not a single goddamned Skype, not a single comment— ya tried ta forget ‘bout me, ya scrub. Ya tried ta get rid of everythin’ we were, ya took away _my best friend_ and ya have the nerve of showin’ yer face in front of me? The fuck’s wrong with ya? Just ‘cause I toldja I was in love with ya? What’re ya, a damn five-year-old? Get outta my—”

“’m sorry,” Atsumu interrupts. Shouyou stops dead in his tracks, mouth hanging open in the middle of another round of insults that die on his tongue with the sour taste of hurt. Atsumu looks ashamed, pained, and the anger that’s been rising in Hinata’s chest stops as suddenly as it began. He’s still crying and his throat hurts, feeling raw and abused, and he chokes a sob with a tingling pain that makes him scrunch his face. “’m so sorry, Shouyou.”

“Fer _what_ ,” he hisses, looking away, “for leavin’ me alone when I needed ya the most?”

“Fer bein’ stupid.”

“That ain’t news, y’know.”

“Yer accent shows when yer angry,” the other muses almost to himself. Shouyou has the burning need of slapping him again. “I got scared.”

“Oh, boo-fuckin’-hoo,” Shouyou spits, “ya were scared of little Shouyou bein’ in love with ya? Two years is way too much time ta feel scared. Ya had enough time ta talk ta me but ya decided ta ignore me.”

“What was I supposed ta do, eh?!”

Shouyou blinks in his direction, taken aback by the sudden rise in his voice’s volume. Atsumu had never screamed at him but he understands why he does it now. He’s must be as angry as Hinata but he can’t accept his anger because he has no right. Hinata’s the one who’s been hurting for two years because one of the persons he loves the most turned out to be a coward.

“Be yerself,” he huffed. Shouyou’s never been one to use sarcasm but he can feel it tingling on the tip of his tongue. “But that was too hard for ya, wasn’t it.”

“How’d ya feel if yer best friend suddenly toldja he’s in love with ya?”

“Flattered.”

“Toldja I felt flattered.”

“Ya didn’t show it. The only thing ya had ta do was ta be my fuckin’ friend, and ya blew it up.”

“Won’t ya listen ta me for a damn second?” Atsumu pleads, looking at him like he’s never seen him before. Shouyou is sure Atsumu’s never seen him this angry, this ready to bite his throat out. They’d had fights in the past, days when they wouldn’t talk to each other until one of them gave up and apologized. But this is different. “Ya can insult the shit outta me if ya want to, but hear me out first.”

Shouyou wants to say no. He nods.

“I was scared ‘cause yer my best friend. ‘Cause ya suddenly came ta me with such a happy face while gettin’ rejected, and ya told me ya didn’t need to get yer feelings reciprocated. It was terrifyin’.”

Shouyou snorts, earns an angry glare from Atsumu. He’s this close to finally have enough.

“And then ya were gone and I didn’t have time ta actually get ta terms with you likin’ me like that. It was overwhelmin’ ta know that… ‘cause ya didn’t say anythin’ before. Ya didn’t show a single sign of feelin’ that way and I didn’t know what ta do…”

“Yer makin’ it worse.”

“’m trynna say ‘m in love with ya too, ya fuckin’ asshole!”

Hinata’s heart stops in his chest and he suddenly feels cold all over. His skin is tingling with a feeling he’s never felt before and his knees are trembling underneath the weight of his body. He wants to run away, to flee.

“You what?”

His voice is merely a whisper, a sound so fragile that the acoustic pollution of Tokyo seems to swallow it whole. But Atsumu’s eyes say he’s heard those two single words that feel like a cry for help.

“I was scared ‘cause ya were gone and I didn’t have enough time ta know if I was right ‘bout rejectin’ ya.”

Shouyou laughs. It’s an incredulous sound, something that doesn’t feel like it belongs to him. It feels foreign in his chest, in his mouth. The voice that comes out of his lips isn’t his and he wants to claw at his neck to get rid of the sound.

“Glad ta know my feelings are funny.”

“Why didn’t you text me?”

“I didn’t know how.”

“This is ridiculous,” Shouyou drones out, pressing the heels of his hands to his eyes. The red stars are back and they fill his vision field behind his forcefully closed eyelids. He laughs again, and the broken sound seems to claw at his ears. “Are you really this much of a coward?”

“Yes.”

He looks at Atsumu, and the expression on his face pushes pure _need_ to the front of his mind. Need to go and cradle his fingers through his hair, need to caress his cheeks and tell him everything will be okay. He forgives those two years so easily it makes him angry, angrier than he’d been until a moment ago. But he’s angry with himself now, angry at how weak he is in front of Atsumu’s pain.

“You can’t just—” he begins, choking on a sob. “You can’t just leave me like that, ignore me for so long and then…”

“Shouyou,” he sighs, giving two steps forward. Enough to stand on the edge of Shouyou’s personal space and he’s having flashbacks. It feels like Atsumu’s been exaggerating for two whole years. “Shouyou, ’m so sorry. There’s nothin’ I can do ta erase those two years or ta erase the fact that ‘m this big of a coward. I hurt ya and I’ll totally understand if ya can’t forgive me—”

“You know what angers me the most?” Shouyou cuts in, averting his gaze. He doesn’t want to look at him because he knows he’ll give in and thus he’ll never say what he needs to say. _There’re things that need to be said_. “The fact that I’ve already forgiven you. And it makes me mad because I don’t know if you’ll ever do something like this again. I needed my best friend and you just… pushed me away. You made me feel like my feelings disgusted you.”

Oh. _Oh_. So that’s the reason behind such a wound.

He doesn’t feel hurt because Atsumu stopped talking to him. He would’ve understood because life goes on and being an adult isn’t easy. They both had jobs, stuff to worry about, stuff that kept them off the phone for days even.

It was the thought of Atsumu feeling disgusted by him what hurt him so much.

“Disgusted?” he repeats in disbelief. A new step forward and he’s now standing into Shouyou’s personal space. “I was surprised. But _never_ disgusted.”

“Yeah, well, I couldn’t know.”

“I know.”

They stand there, in silence, for what feels like ages. Shouyou can hear Atsumu’s breathing; can imagine he’s able to hear the beating of his heart. He wants nothing more than to rest his head against his chest, to give in to the necessity of feeling his arms wrapped around him. But he’s not ready yet, he’s still hurting.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop hurting.

“I love you,” Hinata begins, voice small and trembling, “but I don’t really know if I can be with you after this.”

“I know.”

Shouyou frowns. He wants to smack him again.

“And you’re okay with it?”

“’m okay with it ‘cause I deserve it.”

Is he really saying he’s willing to endure that kind of pain because he deserves it?

Shouyou reaches out with his hand, gripping his fingers in the hem of Atsumu’s shirt. He yanks him down by the collar, smashes his lips against his and puts all his anger, his hurt, his longing, and everything he’s ever felt for him in that sudden, brief kiss. It’s over before Atsumu can blink, and Shouyou hisses through his teeth.

“If you _ever_ dare to hurt me like this again, you’ll _never_ know about me again.”

“What?”

“I’m accepting you under the condition that you need to stop being a coward.”

Atsumu’s face lights up. The sudden change makes Shouyou’s head spin and he’s brutally reminded of how much he loves the coward in front of him. There’s something inside of him that tells him he’s taking a step into the void but he brushes it off.

Steps into the void are basically his entire personality and at this point he wants to think less and do more.

Yeah, Atsumu is a coward. He hurt Shouyou, he made him feel like his feelings disgusted him. He knows he probably shouldn’t forgive him so easily but the fire that burns behind Atsumu’s eyes says he’s willing to _try_. And Hinata knows nothing can be done unless there’s an attempt first.

This is his attempt. This is his chance, a chance Hinata’s given to him despite his best judgment.

“Don’t blow this one up, okay?”

“No way in hell ‘m doin’ that.”

**Author's Note:**

> That's been all for today! I hope you enjoyed this fic uwu I was fun writing because at the time I did, Inarizaki!Shouyou was really popular. Popular as hell, actually, there was this art of Aran giving Shouoyu a piggyback ride and it was soft and beautiful and [bites fist]
> 
> I will be working non-stop to finish the seventh day of this week or my name isn't fucking Elsa I swear to gOD-- 
> 
> Remember to come scream at me on Twitter and CuriousCat! Let's scream together about this beautiful, perfect, straight-outta-my-craziest-dreams Royalty!AU collab! 


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